Twice Dead
by CelestiasFaithful
Summary: Ellie Ravenwood thought she had left her Caster family far behind after disowning herself. Now her family has been called upon to take in her daughter Clara after falling on hard times in England. Clara is no one special. No powers- nothing. But as a man once said: "I've never met a person who wasn't important."
1. Prologue

"_I'm the narrator,_

_& this is just the prologue._"

- Panic! At The Disco, "_The Only Difference Between Martyrdom And Suicide Is Press Coverage_"

* * *

**Prologue-**

_Nineteen moons,_

_Nineteen fears,_

_Each day- a new secret appears,_

_House the body of the girl twice-dead,_

_Soon she shall be nothing but the house's head,_

_She may be Mortal and powerless,_

_But other powers she shall posses,_

_Before the battle of demons starts,_

_Two men must swear across their hearts._

_Nineteen moons,_

_Nineteen cries,_

_At the stroke of midnight- she first dies,_

_At the second death at the hands of hate,_

_Back when her story was less than great,_

_Metal and steel- flesh and bone,_

_Only one heart-crossed man can be called 'home'._


	2. Chapter 1

"_I miss the weekends with you,_

_We used to sleep in late,_

_And come back older than young._"

-Heyrocco, "_The Boston Marathon_"

* * *

**Chapter One-**

Clara sat in the back of a cab, one leg crossed over the other, looking despondently out the window as the music app on her iPhone blasted Bloc Party's "_Flux- Live Open'er 2012_" with it's electro-yet-mellow beats gave her a little more comfort in just landing at an American airport after countless hours on a plane and through customs. The lyrics '_we were hoping for some romance- all we found was more despair_' made her evaluate her life the past few months. Mum had died almost seven years ago, and she had been a governess for the children of a family friend since then, but had finally found a dead end since they were starting to no longer need her, but kept her around since they were family friends, but they also pitied her immensely.

It was only days ago that her mother's family had appeared out of the blue and invited her to hot and horrid Gatlin, South Carolina with her Uncle. Apparently, he owned a plantation or something. Clara didn't have the _foggiest_ idea of what a plantation was- probably something like a mansion- but she would soon find out.

She had actually never known her mother's family, to be perfectly honest.

Her mum had never given her the slightest clue of who they were, but all she could think of was this "Uncle Macon" she was meeting and staying with looked like that guy from that American TV show she had watched on the plane...what was it called? Oh, yes- _Mad Men_.

She had this idea that her uncle would resemble the big-shot _Don Draper_, portrayed by Jon Hamm, as according to the credits of each of the season or so she ended up watching on the plane. He would have a house that looked like the staircase in _Titanic_, and treat her like a daughter.

Her dreams -both metaphorically and literally- were ripped to shreds as she woke up to thunder as she jolted upward in the cab, turning into the driveway in front of old iron gates that were rusted and overgrown with vegetation. It was pouring rain outside, the parched Carolina soil not being able to take it in so quickly, so about a inch of water was anywhere you stepped.

She looked at the cab driver, standing halfway upward in the car. "Are you sure-"

"I'm sure, lady." the man said in his New York accent "This is the _exact_ place you gave me, according to the GPS. Now look, there is _no_ way you could have gotten the address wrong- there isn't an address_ close_ to this one anywhere in the _state_. Now, we can debate this_ all_ evening long...but remember-" he tapped the meter with a hinting smile. "_meter's runnin'_."

Within a minute, she paid the cab driver the few hundred dollars it was to get her all the way to her cozy little abandoned didn't even touch the gates- they were visibly locked and she didn't want to get cut and/or infected by the rust. She pulled out her umbrella, the relief of being rain-free bringing a long-awaited smile of victory to her face.

She put down her suitcase, and sat on top of it. Once the rain cleared, she'd just walk to the nearest occupied house, explain her situation, and ask to use their internet so she could find a hotel or some 24-hour coffee shop to hang around in.

Suddenly, lost in her daydream of sleeping in a booth in a business that smelled like sweet coffee, light flashed before her eyes. A vehicle was only a yard away from her.

It was a _hearse_.

"Oh God-" she said, eyes wide as she stood up, grabbing her luggage protectively. "I'm in a bloody _funeral home_."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two-**

"Lena-"

She quickly got up and opened the door to her bedroom, and walked to the banister. "Yes, Uncle M?"

"We need to talk."

Lena's eyes widen as her uncle beckoned her downstairs. His tone was calm, yet short like he was very serious about something- almost remorse. She had never been called for a 'talk' like this before. She slowly walked down the stairs and into the dining room, noticing her uncle sitting in a chair, leaning over a book. He put a finger down on a certain part of the book.

"Read it." He said as she advanced to read it.

It was the old Ravenwood family tree.

His finger was underneath his parents, and right next to _Macon Ravenwood _in delicate cursive handwriting. The name next to it was a name she had never heard of.

"_Ellie Ravenwood_. Who's Ellie?"

"Your _Aunt_ Ellie. She disowned herself as a young teenager, and left America before she could even drive. No one ever heard from her again. Until now."

Lena knitted her eyebrows. "If she disowned herself, why did she associate with the family again?"

"Because Ellie Oswald died in 2005."

Lena's eyes became dark and somber. "I'm _so_ sorry, Uncle M..." She said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I never really knew Ellie. Like I said- she left at a young age, before I was old enough to realize_ why_ she wanted nothing to do with us, let alone the Caster _world_."

He got up, grabbing another book from a large stack that was older than the first, its leather beginning cracked with the age of unknown time, and the words "_Caster Records_" in big golden letter, followed by "_of the First One-Thousand Years A.D._" underneath in less shiny gold, and "_United Kingdom- Volume 212_" underneath that.

Macon flipped to a page that had appeared to be opened to it so often that it was easily turned to, and pointed to another name. Lena didn't bother reading it this time.

"She had a daughter"

"Clara. She's fallen on hard times, and we have just learned about her, and I have decided to take her in." He said, as Lena jumped up and down and squealed.

"It'll be like having a _sister_!"

"I guess you could say that." He said a little uneasily. "But there are a _few_ problems."

"Like what?" Lena raised an eyebrow.

"Clara isn't a Caster."

"_What?_"

"Clara has no powers. She couldn't smash a window without physical force, unlike Casters."

"Well, I guess she'll just be like the Mortals at school, then."

Macon smirked, then chuckled. "No, Lena...Clara's in her twenties."

"Okay..." said Lena, starting to blush.

"Actually-" said her uncle. "She has no idea _who_ we are, or _what_ we are- for that matter." Suddenly, the rain outside became harder. Lena wasn't expressing her emotions through the elements today- it was just a natural downpour.

"Now, if you'll excuse me-" he got up and went to go start the hearse.

"I believe my _new niece_ is here."


End file.
